Fixing Happy
by Domino Shelby
Summary: Reigning Pokémon Master, Ash Ketchum is a glorified young man. After an untimely accident, he is left in an early, bittersweet retirement: saving Pokémon, but not his life or his daughter. One Shot, because I'm lazy and uninspired! Review and win a pirze!


_I don't own anything; I just toy around with it. _

Today, I woke up early enough to watch the sunrise. I stood from the balcony of my bedroom with my coffee, warm, in hand, overlooking the glistening waters of Kanto's East Coast. The sun was an emblazoning shade of orange above the truest, deepest blue water. Definitely a nice way to start off my morning. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

Of course I returned to Kanto. I had to. I spent half of my young life traveling around with no more than fresh boxers and a toothbrush, oh, and maybe Pikachu. Ever since I can remember, I have been on the pursuit of bigger and better things, of becoming the greatest Pokémon Master the world has ever seen, sporting legendary Pokémon from the far corners of the map, as well as common Pokémon trained to unthinkably high levels. Ever since I can remember, I have always sought after the impossible 'more'. I dreamt of attaining impossible dreams, of being the definition of best. And, big surprise, I achieved all of those goals, basked in its glory, reigned supreme, been idolized, excetera. My name is already down in the history books. Ash Ketchum, the world's greatest Pokémon Master of all time. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

All of this happened by the time I was seventeen. The press adored it. They were constantly chronicling the promising teen's impeccable life, my ups and maybe even the slightest down. Hey, nobody's perfect, but I sure came close. Not only was the young Ash Ketchum dominating the Pokémon World circuit, he was doing it with the world's most beautiful girl cheering him on from the sidelines.

Misty and I were the world's favourite, miracle-match couple. Not only was she beautiful, but Misty was one of the most qualified Pokémon trainers I have ever met. Her Water Pokémon were among the world's strongest. Working together with my Pikachu, we were lethal. Wherever we went together, paramanic fans and reporters would follow our every move. Unsettling? Maybe a little, at first. But we learned to be gracious and appreciate the world's support. Ash and Misty, through the media's eyes, could do no wrong.

Misty and I were all of eighteen when we were blessed with the arrival of our twin daughters. News of Misty's pregnancy undoubtedly got major attention worldwide, however, never was her teen pregnancy condemned; as soon as magazines got a good look at little Natasha and Jordan, their hearts, along with ours, melted into pure baby bliss.

I lived in baby bliss for eight years. I was 26 years old, and undefeated for the past three. I had balanced family with career with Misty by my side the entire time. The girls were becoming more and more interested in Pokémon. Misty and I could not have been happier. Our two beautiful daughters wanted to be just like Mommy and Daddy. Did I influence them at all? Well, come on! How could I not? I still couldn't believe that my babies were only two years away from becoming trainers of their own, leaving home and venturing off down the same paths their parents and grandparents had taken. Even if Daddy Ash never wanted his girls to leave home, the world could not wait to see what Natasha and Jordan Ketchum had to offer. I didn't want to ruin the surprise, but I already knew the answer: nothing but their absolute best.

As well, the year I turned 26 was the year I was invited to host the 5th Annual Regional Pokémon Championships, held in Goldenrod. The RPC is the biggest competition elite trainers will attend; it is for all gym leaders, from all regions. As host, my role was to announce all of the Pokémon battles, greet the contestants and family, as well as award badges to the winners, be the hero that competitors wish they were. Standard host protocol. As well, it was planned that the champion would challenge me to a battle, one Pokémon per person. It was going to be a blast! At the time, I was living in Hearthome City, in Hoenn. Misty and the girls were getting very excited for the RPC, too. As former leader of the Cerulean City Gym, Misty had been invited as a guest of honour. I left for the event three days before the girls; the twins were down with a little cold, but they'd in good spirits just in time for the competition.

I waited at Goldenrod Airport to pick up my family for over five hours. People were staring at me, and the odd camera flashed. There was no news of any delays, any flight cancellations. I was starting to get anxious. I was starting to get nervous. Where was my family, damn it?

Gut feelings can only go so far. They can get the brain thinking, prepare itself mentally. In theory. Nothing could have prepared me to hear that the plane my family was on board had crashed. Things like that aren't supposed to happen. Things like that don't happen, not to Ash Ketchum. No. I am an envialbe icon, not one of pity and sympathy. No, no. Only it did happen. I lost a wife and daughter, with another one in critical condition in a rescue helicopter flying who knows where. News like that just numbs you. All I could do was cry. I didn't care how many people saw my cry, screw them. I lost my Misty. I can never have her back. Natasha is dead. She was eight. No parent should have to endure the death of their child. But I did. I have lived with it every single day of my life. How do you go on? How can you rebound? I couldn't; I lost it. I lost my wife, I lost my daughter.

And then there was Jordan.

Bless her. She is the sole reason I am still alive, still sane. I sat by her side at the hospital wing for three months,_ three months,_ waiting for her to wake up from her coma. Sometimes I wish she hadn't, so that the Ketchum family would all rest in peace and meet in another life. Sometimes I wish that had happened. When she woke up, I had to bear the burden of telling her that Mommy and Sasha are never coming home. Try telling an eight year-old girl that. It tore my heart apart.

Things were never the same. I soon found out that training and raising Pokémon was much easier than raising a grieving daughter. I just couldn't do it. We barely talked, and she was so lonely. I just couldn't connect with her. With the press following us wherever we went, asking the most impersonal questions, I could barely let her out of the house. It was a depressing two years. The day she turned ten, I just about kicked her out, had she not left before I woke up. I always slept in on those important days. But now that Jordan was gone, I was all alone.

I hadn't heard from Jordan in over a year, before I saw her on a PokéFood billboard, cuddling a Growlithe. It was the happiest I had seen her since the incident. I couldn't help but smile. Living at home, the home she and her sister were raised, was probably not the healthiest environment. I was happy to see her off enjoying the world. I hadn't really realized it before, but Jordan certainly was a gorgeous little girl. She didn't look distinctly like Misty nor I; her facial features were a perfect mix of my wife and I. A perfect mix of both of our best features. She was just perfect.

Apparently, I wasn't the only person who though so, either. It wasn't long until my daughter's face was the backdrop of the current media. By the time she was twelve, she was the poster child of preteen whatever. Some training gear accessories or something like that. I didn't really notice, I didn't really want to interfere. She was happy, and that's all I cared about.

Jordan and I never really established good contact while she went off traveling. Of course I'd send birthday and Christmas cards to a town I had guessed she'd be nearing. If she had a phone, then I didn't know its number. As well, the magazines and tabloids had kept a day-by-day chronicle, or so it seemed, of her life. The world, along with her father, were playing Big Brother on Jordan Ketchum. As much as I knew she would initially hate all of the attention, mainly because her fame mainly came from being a Ketchum, I have to admit, from a parent's point of view, publicity was THE best baby-sitter around.

I didn't begin worrying until the time Jordan was about sixteen. By then she had completely given up on Pokémon training; modeling and celebrity was her full-time job. As she got older and, well, more mature.. people started to pay more attention to her, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing. I just about rioted after she modeled jeans sans top. She was only a teenager; isn't this illegal?! Nobody seemed to care. Nobody cared when she started posing in smaller and smaller amounts of clothing. She was beautiful, the world was in love. And she's Ash's daughter? Who would have guessed! But I worried. I worried a lot. I saw all the pictures, the overlooked child pornography. If there was one thing Jordan inherited solely from her mother, it was her impossibly long and slender legs. She no longer modeled jeans with those legs, the legs modeled themselves with the slightest pair of underwear in attendance. It made me want to throw up. My daughter wasn't cute and smiley anymore. My daughter was becoming a pouty pinup girl.

Absolutely that lead to boyfriends, to sex. I'm so sure of the sex. She went through the dirtiest punks like popsicles. As much as I feared for my daughter, as much as I felt I had to help her, I just couldn't. I had tried to reach out to her before, after pictures of her smoking and drinking began to emerge. She thanked my weak attempt at parenting with a simple "Fuck off." I couldn't say I expected anything kinder.

Of course the media had asked me about Jordan, how I felt about her lifestyle. I had to tell them what I had been trying to tell myself for years: Jordan is living life the way she wants to. She's made her millions. If my daughter is happy, then so am I.

Now I barely even recognize her. Through all of the years of constant wardrobe overhauls and haircuts and weight losses and muscle gains, she has become a completely different person. She had red hair at some point, but I think it's blonde now. Her face has been permanently caked with makeup since age eleven. She doesn't look like a young lady, but some elaborate sex cartoon that single men jack off to in their pitiful little homes. But that was the life she had chosen, the path that my daughter Jordan had taken. I still haven't heard from her in years. I'm not exactly inclined to 'ring her up'.

As for me, I live in Kanto, near Route 13, as I have already mentioned. I gave up Pokémon training a few years ago; I couldn't handle the constant affiliations to Jordan and what drug she was on now. I run a Pokémon Rescue Ranch now, along with Brock and his wife, and their son Jason, or Jay as I like to call him. And Pikachu, of course. We take in abused, abandoned, and endangered Pokémon and try to rehabilitate them to the best of our abilities. So far we've saved nearly 1,000 Pokémon. And that's just the beginning.

I let out a heavy sigh.

One thousand Pokémon saved, and yet not a single daughter.

That's when I knew the Golden Age of Ash Ketchum was over.

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_AN: So I was bored and whipped this out. Is it alright? I guess I'll add more to this story, some chapters will do it some good. Feedback would be ideal, this is my first FF. Please review, I would love to know where to go with this, because I haven't got the slightest clue! _

_DS_


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